


Cooling Hands

by DOOMLover21



Series: Widojest Week 2019 [7]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Sick Character, Sickfic, Widojest - Freeform, Widojest Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 10:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DOOMLover21/pseuds/DOOMLover21
Summary: When Caleb becomes sick and feverish, he finds comfort and relief with Jester's cold hands.  Critical Role.  Campaign 2.  Caleb Widogast, Nott the Brave, and Jester Lavorre.  Caleb Widogast/Jester Lavorre.  Widojest.  Widojest Week Day 6: Fire and Ice.





	Cooling Hands

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This was my fic for Widojest Week Day 6: Fire and Ice. It took me far too long to write and far too long to figure out where I wanted to go with it. It ended up being a lot longer than I originally anticipated. Please accept the fact that it's longer as an apology for how late this is. Enjoy!

**Cooling Hands**

She should've known better. She should've known that he had been lying when he told her and Caduceus that he was ok. If only she had pushed him. If she had only noticed, only paid more attention to him and seen that his headache and his hoarse voice were something far more serious. Now here he was lying in bed with a wet rag on his forehead.

She sat beside him and Nott rested in bed on his other side. She ran her fingers through his hair. His head was warm, and he hadn't eaten much if anything in the past two days that they'd been here. Nott and Caduceus had tried desperately to get him to force anything down, but a fair portion of what he did eat, made its way back up in the form of vomit.

Jester felt his head again. It was still just as warm as it had been the last time she'd checked. The rag, she noticed, was almost as warm as his head. She removed it and handed it to her companion.

"Can you go downstairs and get this nice and cold again?" she asked her. Nott traded her gaze between Caleb and Jester several times before finally getting up with a low groan.

"I'll keep an eye on your boy for you," Jester reassured her. This seemed to satisfy the goblin girl, and she nodded before slipping out the door. She gave Caleb one last passing glance before shutting the door behind her. Jester sighed.

"Why did you have to be soooooo stupid, Cayleb?" she asked. She ran her fingers through his hair again as he muttered in Zemnian. She couldn't understand him, but she could tell that whatever he was saying was distressing to him. He must be having a nightmare, she reasoned. He had been having them a lot lately. Ever since they noticed he had a fever, in fact.

Her finger weaving wasn't helping him this time, though. He was still crying out in his native tongue, and he was starting to squirm and toss in the bed. She wasn't sure exactly how to help him through this. She had never had to take care of someone who was sick before. She knew how to help out if someone was injured from a stab wound or if someone had been burned, but healing someone without her magic was something of a new concept to her.

"Cayleb. I'm sorry you're feeling so bad. I wish I could help. I really do, but my magic can't heal this. I asked the Traveller, and he said that this is just something you have to fight on your own. So, you have to fight. I know you're not all that strong, like physically, but I know your magic is like super strong and you're like a really strong-willed person, at least **I** think you are, so I know that you can fight this off easy. This is no problem for you, so you just have to get better. You have to," she whispered the last part of her rant. She ran her fingers along his cheek. She didn't expect him to respond, and she certainly wasn't expecting him to moan and lean into her touch.

"Huh?" she hummed. She continued running her fingers down the side of his face just to see if he would make the sound again, and was pleasantly surprised when he did. She became so fascinated by his constant moans of pleasure and him leaning into her touch that she almost forgot that Nott was coming back to the room.

"Ah….Jester? What are you doing?" Nott asked as she entered. Her shy voice startled the poor tiefling girl, and she jumped up with a shriek.

"Oh, Nott, you're back. You scared me." She tried to get both her breathing and her heartbeat under control, but she was fighting a losing battle.

"You knew I was coming back. And I brought the rag," she said with a cocked eyebrow. She raised the rag up high so that the cleric could see it. An embarrassed tinge colored her cheeks and the tips of her ears.

"Yeah, I know. I just…uh…got carried away I guess," she started saying shyly.

"But I mean Cayleb seemed like he was enjoying me like totally rubbing his cheek and stuff. And I know that my mom used to do that sort of stuff with me when I wasn't feeling so good, and I know that **technically**, I'm not his mom, technically but it just seemed like a good idea at the time," Jester ranted.

"Umm…okay…I'll just leave you two alone then," Nott stammered as she slowly left the room. Before she left, she gently placed the rag on Caleb's very sweaty forehead. She gave him one last longing glance before shutting the door quietly. This left Jester alone again with the still very sweaty and squirming wizard. She held her head in her hands to hide her still flushed face, but who she was hiding from was anyone's guess.

A longing and painful to listen to whimper rose up from the bundle of blankets on the bed. It broke her heart to hear it. She turned to look back at her charge, but he didn't seem any different than he had the last time that she looked at him.

"I wish I could do something to help you, Cayleb." She carded her fingers through his tangled locks, or at least she tried to. His hair was normally very dirty and not well taken care of, but it was definitely worse than usual ever since he had first taken ill. Getting an idea, she rose from her chair and crossed the room to where she had left her bright pink backpack. She rooted through it for a brief moment before coming up with her prizes. They were a well-worn and very pretty brush and comb set. The pair had inlaid jewels in the handles and had both been very expensive. But the pair had served her well thus far.

She went back to the bed and rearranged her patient and the pillows so that he was sitting up enough that she could reach his hair. He let out a few groans and moans of discomfort, but he otherwise didn't complain or try to get away. She gently ran her fingers over his still too warm skin, and once again he moaned and leaned into her touch. A smile rose to her face.

"I'm going to try and brush your hair now. It won't do you any good to like always have your hair all dirty and matted and stuff. What if you wanted to like totally try and get like a girl or a boy to like, like you and stuff? They wouldn't like that your hair is like, so dirty and unhealthy-like. And you've got really pretty hair too, I bet. I mean I've seen it when it's clean, and it's a really pretty red-orangey color. Kind of reminds me of the color of your flames. Ooooo, or Frumpkin! Frumpkin's a really pretty orange color too!" she excitedly told him. He didn't respond, but she didn't expect him to. She placed the comb on the bed, being careful to not disturb him as she did. With the brush in hand, she attempted to work it through his long locks. The brush didn't get very far before it hit a snag. She tried to pull it through without hurting him, but she soon realized that it would be a losing battle. She sighed as she exchanged the brush with the comb. She attacked the knot with newfound fervor and after a few moments of fighting, she was able to work the comb through the strands and straight into another knot.

"Man, Cayleb! Your hair is really suuuper knotted." She thought about what she said for a moment before giggling to herself.

"Ha ha, knotted. Like Nott, you know? You think she ever, like, tries to make punny sentences with her name like she does with Beau's?" she asked as she continued her work. It took her around ten minutes to finally get all of the knots out of his matted hair. During the process, she hummed a tune her mother would always sing to her when she was younger. He seemed to relax slightly as she was humming. The tiefling wasn't sure if he was relaxing because of the humming or if he was relaxing because of her brushing. Either way, she was glad to see him finally feeling better.

"Danke," he rasped. Jester shrieked as she let go of the comb, which flew through the air and landed on his lap.

"Oh my gods, Cayleb! You scared me!" she scolded. She thought about slapping him briefly before she thought better of it.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked instead. He shrugged awkwardly.

"Not long. I don't sink…" he rubbed his temple. "It's a little fuzzy."

"It's okay. You've been all sorts of, like, sick and stuff," she said. This time she did slap him. Gently though, of course. It still left him with an angry red mark on his already flushed face.

"Oww! Vat vas zat for?" he asked.

"That was for not telling us that you weren't feeling well." He rubbed at his cheek as she continued her rant.

"Don't you think that we care about you? We've been so worried about you this whole time and you were just soooo…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't want any of you to vorry about me," he whispered softly.

"Cayleb, we always worry about you. You're our friend. We will always care about you. I will always care about you and worry about you. We love you, Cayleb. All of us," she argued. A soft and very sad smile quirked the side of his lips upward. It was a very quick one like his smiles usually were.

"I'm glad you see so much goodness in me, zat you vould care so deeply for me, but I still don't feel like I deserve any of it." His face fell. It was the same kind of miserable expression he wore when he was telling all of them about his past. It made her want to do anything in her power to wipe away the pain from his face.

"But you do deserve it, Cayleb! I don't know why you always think that you're not deserving of affection, and our care and our love and stuff. But you** are! **You are sweet and nice and kind, and we love you soooo much! You are a nice guy, and you've done a lot of good things," she argued. Her eyes welled up with tears. She couldn't imagine how someone who was so nice, and kind, and caring could feel like they didn't deserve to be treated as nicely as they treated others.

"Oh, Jester," he groaned out. His lips contorted into a very painful looking smile. Coupled with his furrowed eyebrows, his smile looked more like a grimace. But despite his very pained look, Jester could tell that he was actually very happy. She remembered him wearing a similar expression when he was telling the group that he really did like them all.

She wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay, but she was very sure that he would recoil. So, it came as a big surprise when he leaned over and laid his head on her shoulder. She nearly squealed in delight. It wasn't very often that Caleb accepted physical contact and even less common for him to initiate contact with someone. She was certainly feeling very special. She pet his hair, a small part of her curious as to whether or not the cat loving wizard would actually start purring. He didn't, to her disappointment, but she still had the notion that were he a cat he would be vibrating in joy.

He absentmindedly picked up the comb in his lap and blindly held it out for her. She took it eagerly. It would be harder to brush his hair with him laying against her, but gods above was she going to try.

"Jester?" She hummed in response as she continued combing through his hair. He seemed to melt into her side as she worked the last knot out and put the comb down. She carded her fingers through his hair instead, and he hummed in pleasure.

"Ja, Cayleb? What is it?"

"Come closer." She raised an eyebrow.

"How am I supposed to do that? We're sitting next to each other. And I don't know about you, but I don't think there's a way to get any closer than that….ooooo unless you have like some kind of spell or something that, like, allowed you to be inside of someone, or like on top of them, or something," she ranted, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention as he twisted his body so he could look at her.

He studied her face very closely. His keen mind would easily remember all the tiny details so he could replay them over and over again when his brain and body were a little less feverish. But for now, it was all he could do to keep himself focused.

She still was trying to work out his meaning when he reached out and fumbled for her chin. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he grasped her icy skin in his sweat-soaked hand. His heart was beating a million miles a second, but at the moment he didn't care. All he cared about right then was how perfect her lips looked, and how beautiful she was overall.

He gently pulled her to him and claimed those perfect lips with his not so perfect lips, and he couldn't have been happier. Later he would claim that it was the fever that drew him to kiss her, but in truth, he wasn't so sure that it was. He was utterly smitten with her. It wasn't something he would admit openly or even admit to at all, but it was true. Very, very painfully true.

Jester had been very shocked at his sudden romantic interest and his lips on hers, but a part of her was also leaping for joy. She had always had a crush on the Zemnian wizard, but she would never admit it to him. Not that he would ever return her feelings. He had made it abundantly clear that he still had feelings for his ex-girlfriend, Astrid.

He had mentioned her a few times previously, and had even admitted that he thought that she was the one for him. Jester wished that she could have the same thing. That she could be so utterly in love and devoted to one singular person that she felt that they were the one she'd eventually marry and spend the rest of her life with. For right now she would revel in the fact that she felt like she was one of the main characters in a smutty romance novel.

All too soon he pulled away. He was gasping for much-needed air. Her heart was racing out of her chest and a flush colored her cheeks. She noticed that a similar flush of color had risen to Caleb's cheeks. She looked away after that, and he did the same.

"Umm…uh…I'm sorry. I'm not exactly in my..uh..right mind, r-right now," he stuttered.

"It's okay, Cayleb. I know you haven't been feeling so good lately, but umm...don't worry about it. It felt pretty good." She didn't want him to know just how much she truly enjoyed it.

"But you are sweet on Fjord," he argued with a frown. She knew that sad expression, but she had never seen him use that pained grimace whilst talking about her crush on Fjord. Was it possible that he was jealous?, she wondered.

"Weeeeeellllllll, I do like Fjord. And I mean, he's nice and sweet, and kind, and handsome, but…umm…so are you," she finished softly. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of purple. He turned to look at her, but she refused to meet his gaze. He leaned forward and tried planting another gentle kiss onto her cheek, but his infirmness caused him to sway and fall onto her shoulder instead. A wave of dizziness and weariness overtook him then, and his eyes began to slowly close.

"Oh, Cayleb! Are you okay?" she asked as she turned to quickly grab onto him and give him a once-over. He groaned but made no move to either speak or remove himself from her grasp. She smiled shyly at him and pulled him into an awkward hug. He let himself be held by her and even found himself relaxing in her arms.

Jester rubbed circles into his torso with one hand and ran her fingers through his long hair with the other. As she was doing this, she began humming a Nicodranian folk song her mother used to sing to her. She could feel his breathing evening out as he fell asleep in her arms. She finished her song and very gently laid him back down onto the bed properly. She tucked him in and placed a soft kiss onto his still warm forehead.

"Good night, Cayleb," she whispered to her sleeping companion. She knew that he would deny having feelings for her, and that he would blame his actions on his fever. That seemed like a very Caleb thing to do. And she would let him. She would know the truth just the same as him, but she would allow him to keep his secret. If only so that when he finally did tell her how he felt, it would mean just that tiny bit more. And she fell asleep beside her sick friend with that thought running its comforting course through her mind.


End file.
